


Read the signs like a map

by skullage



Category: Block B
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:18:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6838780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullage/pseuds/skullage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiho just buries his head in the crook of Kyung’s neck and it feels more intimate than kissing, somehow, and it feels like permission, like it’s okay to do this because they feel it so badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Read the signs like a map

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't even try i'm sorry

Jiho always gets like this when he hasn’t been fucked in a while: needy and clingy and touching the other members more than simple fanservice warrants. Instead of dealing with it like a normal person, he tends to transfer his affection to them, by skinship, or cooking, or climbing into Kyung’s bed at midnight and complaining until Kyung pushes him onto the floor. Kyung always lets him back in though, and he kind of hates himself for how much he likes being the object of Jiho’s affection, at least for a little while every month or so until Jiho finds himself a girl. It’s never real, and Kyung can’t keep indulging in the fantasy where it is.

Jiho rambles the whole ride back to the dorm about Crush’s concert, about how a fan screamed at him when he read her letter out loud, and how he’s been itching to get back in the studio, and Kyung listens like a good friend, like a person who doesn’t want to fool around with someone they’ve known for twenty years, someone whose hand is on his thigh and whose breath is in his ear. It’s harder than it should be to focus on anything else, but he gets through the journey with his sanity intact.

Jiho invites himself back to the dorm and Kyung almost objects, needing the space from him. He figures he can excuse himself to his room and leave Jiho to Taeil and Jaehyo, but then Taeil and Jaehyo decide to grab dinner with Jihoon, and Kyung is stuck with Jiho for the evening, by himself.

It is, as he suspected, unbearable. Jiho follows him around the dorm like a puppy when Kyung goes to the kitchen to make tea, then back to the living room where he sits practically on top of Kyung, stealing the remote control and flicking to a random music channel that Kyung didn’t particularly want to watch.

“You have something,” Jiho says, motioning to Kyung’s face. When he reaches out, Kyung slaps his hand away. “Ah!”

“Can you quit being so annoying?” He doesn’t mean to snap but he does, anyway. Jiho’s expression crinkles and he even looks like a puppy.

“How am I being annoying?”

“Everything you’re doing is annoying. Your sexual frustration is making me frustrated.”

Jiho’s eyebrows shoot up and Kyung regrets saying that, too.

“I’m making you frustrated?”

Kyung rolls his eyes. “Yes. And it’s pissing me off. Get laid and come back when you’re the slightly more tolerable Jiho who knows boundaries.”

“We’ve showered together,” Jiho reasons, “we don’t have any boundaries.”

“Stop treating me like your girlfriend, then.” Kyung can hear the bitterness in his voice and doesn’t really want to investigate why it’s there. If he starts a fight, it won’t make Jiho leave, because Jiho can’t stand to leave things unsolved lest they fester, and he’d made Kyung talk out his feelings. Feelings which he’s successfully bottled up for a while now, years maybe, feelings that should not be shared with the one he’s feeling them for.

“Okay then,” Jiho says. He leans back until he’s no longer plastered to Kyung’s side. “I didn’t realise I was doing that, but okay.”

He’s silent for a while as Kyung flicks through channels and drinks his tea and tries not to let his anger get the better of him. He’s not really angry at Jiho, anyway, he’s angry at himself for all the contact and the moments he forgets that it isn’t for real.

“You know,” Jiho says, slow, like he’s plotting something, “I know a way we can both deal with our sexual frustration.”

“I’m not really in the mood to go out, but thanks.”

“We don’t have to go out.” He’s being purposefully coy, and Kyung doesn’t have the patience to play the game where JIho’s the smartest one in the room.

“You going to ring some of your girls and have them come over just to fuck us? That’s low. What did they do to deserve that?”

“I wasn’t talking about girls, either.”

Kyung opens his mouth to ask what Jiho’s being so coy about when his question is cut off by the press of JIho’s mouth to his.

It’s quick. Kyung barely has time to register how soft Jiho’s lips are before he pulls back, a question written all over his face.

“Was that okay?”

Kyung could say no. He could push Jiho away, and they could laugh it off, and pretend like it’s a thing best friends do sometimes when they’ve got no better options and no better judgement. But--

“Do it again,” Kyung says without hesitation.

Jiho does, drawing it out, licking at Kyung’s mouth until Kyung lets him in, sucking on his tongue, crowding Kyung against the couch like he did in the van with an arm around his shoulders. Jiho makes a noise from the back of his throat that Kyung swallows. He repositions himself, a hand on Jiho’s neck to keep him where he wants him. Jiho seems content enough to let him, and deepens the kiss in encouragement.

Jiho bites Kyung’s lip, not at all polite about it, and it stirs something in him, a primal need to respond. He surges against Jiho at the same time he pulls him closer until their chests are flush and Jiho’s arm wraps around Kyung’s back to hold onto.

It doesn’t take long until they’re panting, worked up and out of breath. Kyung pulls back to find Jiho flushed, his lips kissed red, eyes refocusing. Kyung feels like Jiho looks. “Well,” he says, “that was something.”

Jiho smirks, and it highlights the apples of his cheeks. The hand he placed on Kyung’s knee a minute ago has worked it’s way up his thigh, dangerously close to Kyung’s growing erection.

“I’d say we should keep going, but I’ve kind of got a boner right now, and I don’t want to ruin the mood.”

Kyung licks his lips, conscious of the way Jiho watches the movement. He only takes a moment to decide before he swings a leg over Jiho and sits in his lap. “Boners I can deal with,” he says. Jiho looks surprised but his hands come up to Kyung’s thighs to steady him, his expression smoothing out until he’s grinning.

“Yeah? Is this okay?”

Kyung’s hands settle on Jiho’s neck, thumbs against his pulse points. He settles himself more fully in Jiho’s lap until he can feel his dick, the thickness of it, how hard he is. It’s not short of a power trip knowing he did that. “Just fucking touch me,” he says, kissing Jiho again.

It’s dirty this time, open-mouthed and frantic, like they can’t get enough of each other; Kyung grins down against Jiho’s lap until Jiho groans.

“You’re seriously asking to be fucked, acting like this.” Jiho sucks on the patch of skin under Kyung’s ear, taking his earlobe into his mouth and biting gently.

Kyung snorts. “You start this, with all your talk about mutual sexual frustration.”

Jiho doesn’t seem to hear him, burying his face in Kyung’s collarbone. “God, you’re shameless.”

“Me? I’m not the one who was all over Kwonnie at the signing. It’s not all fanservice, you were just too hard up to keep your hands to yourself.”

Jiho’s still not listening. “We should fuck. Really, we should.”

Kyung would laugh if it wasn’t evident that that’s where this situation was headed from the beginning. “You think?”

Jiho doesn’t catch the sarcasm, kissing along Kyung’s chest, nosing at his throat, his hands on Kyung’s thigh keeping him in place. “Yeah, I wanna fuck you. Or you could fuck me, I don’t care. Whatever works for you.”

Heat pools in Kyung’s belly. Fucking Zico, now there’s a thought. They start kissing again, all hands under shirts on skin, slipping beneath the waistband of Kyung’s jeans, pushing Jiho’s shirt up and off to expose the smooth expanse of his chest. Kyung kisses and licks his way down Jiho’s sternum, and Jiho leans back into the couch to let him, head tilted back.

“You didn’t answer.”

Kyung’s not going to say that he’s thought about this before, when Jiho’s innocent hands travel too close to the danger zones, when Jiho used to fall asleep on him sometimes after their concerts, all warm and smelling like sweat and expensive cologne. That he’s wanted this in a way he was taught was wrong, that he doesn’t care anymore, because it feels right. “Yeah,” he says, “let’s do this.”

Jiho gathers him up and the next thing Kyung knows, he’s on his back with Jiho’s full weight on top of him, hard enough that, restricted by his jeans, it almost hurts. The floor is hard on his back but he finds he doesn’t care when Jiho pops the button on his jeans and gets a hand in his underwear, squeezing Kyung’s dick before he starts to stroke.

Jiho noses at the column of Kyung’s throat as he strokes; Kyung’s muscles pull taut and heat floods through his body, getting him worked up. He wants to touch Jiho, too, make him feel good, too, so he reaches down and slips a hand down Jiho’s pants to feel him hard, leaking at the tip, feel him buck into Kyung’s hand.

The angle is awkward at first, their elbows knocking, before Jiho has the bright idea to shuck their clothes in a frantic scramble that ends with them both naked, skin on skin, and hands and mouths everywhere. It’s gone past the point of being able to laugh it off, to put it down to things best friends do sometimes. 

“We should,” Jiho starts, a hand around both of their cocks. 

“Yeah,” Kyung says, thrusting into Jiho’s grip. 

“Where’s--? Have you got any--?”

“Bedroom. Bedside table.”

The four minutes it takes Jiho to fetch the lube and condoms leaves Kyung feeling bereft, suddenly cold and lonely without Jiho’s weight on top of him. He strokes himself to make up for it, hard and leaking at the thought that they’re doing this. Indulging in fantasy didn’t prepare him for the real thing.

Jiho kneels on the floor in the vee of Kyung’s thighs with the supplies in hand. Neither of them have the patience to move to somewhere more comfortable, and Jiho wastes no time in slicking his fingers up and pushing into Kyung, twisting them in a way Kyung can only describe as _delicious_. They start kissing again, Jiho allowing for Kyung’s laboured breathing and breathy moans. It isn’t long until Kyung’s whining for more, stroking his dick while Jiho fingers him, saying, “do that again”, and “like that”, and finally, “okay that’s enough, just fuck me”. Jiho smirks in a way that marks him look like a shark, and Kyung feel he’s about to be eaten alive.

When Jiho pushes in, Kyung has to hold in the long moan that threatens to come out. Kyung thinks maybe this is where Jiho wanted him all along, if he even thought that far: naked, under him, hands clawing at the floorboards. It feels like he’s being lit up from the inside, Jiho deep-dicking him until his back arches off the floor, wrapping his legs around under the swell of Jiho’s ass so he can feel it deeper. Jiho just buries his head in the crook of Kyung’s neck and it feels more intimate than kissing, somehow, and it feels like permission, like it’s okay to do this because they feel it so badly. 

Jiho gets a hand between them to where Kyung’s cock bobs with their rhythm, working him over until he’s crying out from Jiho’s dick hitting that sweet spot inside of him and the feeling of Jiho’s hand on his cock, coming like a shot that punches its way out of him, his laugh degenerating into a groan as he thunks his head back on the floor. Jiho keeps going through the tightening of Kyung’s body, his rhythm faltering as he swears, gasping open-mouthed against Kyung’s chest, lifting his head up to lock their eyes and Kyung nods, feeling spent and overstimulated. Jiho pushes their mouths together in an unpractised kiss that has Kyung feeling like it’s his first time, like he’s a teenager all over again. By the time Jiho comes, Kyung’s feeling kiss-stupid and thoroughly fucked and not at all ready for Jiho’s full weight on him when he collapses.

They keep kissing through it, Jiho’s hands now that he’s not holding himself up petting the sides of Kyung’s face, curling around his ears, stroking through his hair. It’s the kind of attention Kyung lives for, easy and soft and pampering. Jiho pulls back to look at him, eyes half closed, a slight smile on his face.

“You good?” he asks, and it’s soft like the way his hands card through Kyung’s hair.

Kyung nods, smiles himself, says, “Yeah, I’m good,” and Jiho smiles wider, like he believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> and then taeil and jaehyo and pyo walk in and everyone is scarred forever


End file.
